Villains' Revenge
by OneCreativeIdiot
Summary: A terrible deed brings about a crisis that puts both the heroes of classic stories and a teenager's family in jeopardy. In a bid to stop an evil entity from casting misery on the world, the teen, with a talking cricket by his side, must travel into the stories he ruined to stop the villains from winning. Based on the computer game of the same name. Suggested by "retro mania".
1. Prologue

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This fanfic was suggested by " _retro mania_ " who provided me with several ideas and a rough draft via Private Message. We discussed this for the past few weeks and the time has finally come to start the story- and we're starting it off with the prologue we made. Please note that I'm rating this fanfic Fiction T, due to certain elements that some people may be sensitive to, like coarse language and dark themes. If there's something in this story that sounds off or obscene, please tell me via Private Message so I can fix it. At this time, get comfy in your seats and grab a snack as " _retro mania_ " and I proudly present " **Villains' Revenge** "!

DISCLAIMER: All elements of "Disney's Villains' Revenge" are property of Disney Interactive Studios; all other media under the "Disney" name are property of the Walt Disney Company.

A bipedal sheep, wearing an orange jumpsuit and thick glasses, wandered through the darkness. She was not walking in a dark room or down a dark street; she was surrounded by pitch darkness. This brought a powerful sense of fear and many questions upon her. Overtime, however, the sheep managed to cut the number of questions down to three.

Was she walking on air? Impossible. Her feet were stepping on something solid; yet she felt nothing when she bent down to feel some type of texture.

Was she dreaming? Also impossible. The last thing she remembered before finding herself swallowed in darkness was a prison brawl that got way out of hand and a gigantic object falling on her.

Was she dead? Most likely.

The sheep had heard many stories about the wicked's final resting place. If this was that place, where was the fire and the anguished screams? This wasn't Heaven; and this wasn't what she imagined Hell to be like. Where was she?

She glanced around and debated whether or not to shout. From her perspective she was the only one for possibly miles.

This caused the sheep to groan. "How long do I have to keep walking?" she whined aloud.

"Not that far, thankfully," said a menacing voice.

The sheep instantly halted and her head snapped in every direction trying to find whoever spoke. When she tried to calm herself, her eyes caught a pair of piercing green eyes staring directly at her. Slowly, a large, feline figure appeared, advancing straight towards her. It was a lion with brown fur, a jet black mane, and a scar over his left eye. His stare made it clear he was glad to see her in the way all predators were at the sight of a good meal.

The sheep backed away as the lion stepped closer to her. Then, from behind, another sinister voice added, "In fact, you're at a very good distance."

The sheep trembled as the lion and the character behind her, who revealed himself as an enormous tiger, circled her. She began murmuring to herself as in a prayer. "Don't get weak in the knees, Dawn. You are Dawn Bellwether. You are more strong-willed than these savage beasts."

"SAVAGE BEASTS?!" the lion roared, making Bellwether jump and yelp.

The tiger was just as offended. "You dare call us such an insult?!" he snarled. "You will pay for that!"

"STAND DOWN!" demanded a voice that echoed throughout the darkness.

Bellwether and the two felines froze in place. A third figure appeared in the direction the lion came from. Instead of an animal approaching them, it was a tall man with gray hair, wearing a robe as black as his eyes. He glared at the lion and tiger who slowly stepped away from Bellwether.

"Be lenient towards this...defenseless soul," the man exhorted. "You are much bigger than she is. She only expresses concern of her safety- seeing that you two are the only beings around at the moment."

"And what gives you the right to decide someone's fate?" the lion growled.

"I am Claude Frollo, Minister of Justice," the man proclaimed. "It is my duty to ensure the guilty is rightfully punished."

"Now that is my type of job," Bellwether remarked.

"But it's still not as powerful as being a king," the lion scoffed. "That's what I once was, a king. And then my nephew showed up and seized it from me! Not only that, my loyal army of hyenas torn me to pieces after I lost my throne! After all my promises to them, they turn against me! The savages!"

"So, you had ultimate power and lost it all to someone else?" said Bellwether. "You're not alone, Mister..."

"Scar," the lion muttered.

Bellwether proceeded to tell her story of rising to power by deeming all predators of her city as savages and the rabbit and fox who exposed her plot and sent her to prison. Scar and the tiger still loathed the fact that the sheep had called them savage beasts, yet they agreed that she deserved a better position than an assistant mayor who was bossed around from morning to night.

After Bellwether finished, the tiger, who called himself Shere Khan, shared his story with the group. He was the most feared inhabitant of the jungles of India. While everyone was afraid of him, Shere Khan was afraid of hunters, and this fear soon morphed into hatred; and he vowed to kill any man he came across. The last man he attempted to kill was a child (or man-cub in his words) who set his tail on fire. He could've been successful if the man-cub hadn't outwitted him and sent him plunging into a pit of lava.

Frollo was next to tell his story. As he stated earlier, his job was to have criminals charged for the crimes they committed. A dark fact he revealed to the trio was he despised a group of people he called gypsies- according to Frollo, they did nothing but perform in the streets all day and night. Scar, Bellwether, and Shere Khan were skeptical about his prejudice and the description of the ethnic group; however, it was brushed aside as Frollo told them of the deformed bell ringer he took in as an infant who risked his life to protect one of the gypsies, who had been accused of witchcraft. The bell ringer had stopped the woman's execution and hidden her in the towers of Notre Dame. Frollo confronted them and tried to kill them both himself, only to fall from the balcony to his death in a sea of molten lead.

"How much of a coincidence it is the three of us died overwhelmed in fire," Shere Khan remarked.

Scar and Frollo responded with apathetic nods and words uttered in quiet tones.

"I think what's really coincidental is that the four of us had total power of others," said Bellwether; "and that someone we either knew or deemed the enemy deliberately ended our leadership, even if it means spilling the blood of others."

"Absolutely true," said Scar. "I could've started a new kingdom with my loyal hyenas; if only they hadn't turned on me."

"And I could've given that gypsy witch a chance to redeem her sinful ways," said Frollo. "Then that bell ringer showed up and stole her opportunity. Damn that monster!"

It was then that the group heard a chuckle somewhere around them. They looked in every direction but could not tell where exactly the chuckle was coming from.

"Who's there?!" Shere Khan demanded loudly. "Speak now or we'll find you ourselves!"

"Over here," a feminine voice with a British accent responded.

The four characters turned and saw a woman sauntering towards them. The woman wore a massive fur coat over her black dress, and she shared Frollo's black, piercing eyes. Though they were glad to see another character, Shere Khan, Bellwether, Scar, and Frollo still felt unsettled because the woman's voice did not match the chuckle they had heard.

"I guess you heard it too," said the woman.

"We did," Scar replied. "And we'd like to know who it came from."

"It did not come from me," the woman stated. "I've been searching for the voice since I first arrived in this wretched place."

"I believe we all want to know why we've been sent here," said Frollo.

"Gee, you think?" Scar said mockingly.

Almost immediately, twenty or more characters emerged from the darkness- most were human, some were various animals, and about four characters could only be defined as "mythical creatures". It was quite a shock for the group as they didn't stop to wonder just how many characters (if there were any) they would find in the world of blackness. Astonishment was swapped with delight as everyone began to communicate with one another. Conversations were brief since topics changed every few moments; regardless, it was a nice moment for the characters.

At one point, Frollo was talking to the woman he and his companions had recently met, who revealed herself as Cruella de Vil. Cruella had explained her desire to create a glamorous fur coat using the fur of Dalmatians and the duo of imbeciles who failed to help her make her wish come true. Frollo did criticize her idea of a dog-fur coat, but he agreed that the two men's stupidity led to her downfall.

"You know, it seems to me that everyone here had something good in mind," Cruella said; "and then it was taken away from them. Wouldn't you agree?"

"I do agree," Frollo replied. "It was made clear long ago and everyone sees eye to eye that the lives we had were entirely unfair."

" _Excellent_ ," a new voice hissed.

In an instant, all conversations ceased and the characters scanned the darkness in hopes of learning once and for all who else was there. Their anxiety was visible and, as a result, some of the characters bumped into each other, and the chuckle Bellwether, Scar, Shere Khan, Frollo, and Cruella heard earlier returned.

Gaston, a muscular hunter, withdrew a dagger from his belt and held it up for all to see. "SHOW YOURSELF!" he demanded.

Clayton, another burly hunter, pulled out a large machete and, just like Gaston, held it in the air, ready to fight whoever was toying with them.

" _Your failures make me laugh,_ " the voice remarked. " _Even though you all suffered ghastly fates at the hands of you enemies._ "

"Reveal yourself at once!" a pirate named Captain Hook ordered.

" _None of you can control me,_ " the voice responded. " _I however can control your minds._ "

"Oh, ha ha, that's very original," an entity named Hades retorted. "Now do be kind and come out of hiding!"

" _Do you all wish to know my true form?_ " the voice asked.

"Enough stalling!" Shere Khan roared. "Come out of hiding so we can look at you! Don't be a coward in the face of-"

A column of fire erupted from the center of the group, not only interrupting Shere Khan but scaring him to death, as well as everyone else. The glare of the fire was incredibly bright, causing the darkness to dissolve and, for a brief moment, exposed a charred, destroyed world to the horrified characters. When the light faded, the fire surrounded the group and slowly grew in height.

While mostly all the characters cowered in fear, Frollo and Hades stood still, stunned at the sight before them. They couldn't be sure but, to them, it looked as if there were images within the dancing flames. One was of a deformed man clutching an unconscious woman while crying "Sanctuary!" from the balcony of a massive church. Another showed a muscular man, glowing bright as the sun, carrying the seemingly lifeless body of a thin woman out of an eerie cavern. These two images stuck out to Frollo and Hades who were quick to realize they were the last memories they had before their lives came to an end.

"God almighty," Frollo said under his breath.

"I remember that brat," Hades said, referring to the glowing man in the fire.

The instant Hades spoke, the fire hissed and soared up to the black sky. Everyone watched in amazement as the flames were magically extinguished, revealing a gray, thin-outlined face composed of two devilish eyes and a diabolical grin full of long, serrated teeth. The sight of the face alone was enough to send shivers down everyone's backs. Though it did, the characters did their best to keep their composure as to appear strong and fearless.

" _Are you all satisfied?_ " the face asked.

"We are more surprised than satisfied," Scar replied after clearing his throat. "We did not expect you to be a...an entity."

" _I am more than an entity, Scar_ ," the face said, sporting a sinister grin.

"How do you know my name?!" Scar demanded, his voice spiced with fear.

" _The Formidable Zovuta knows all about you. I know your traits, your memories, you desires_ ," the face answered. " _That's what you all have in common. Every character that stands in my lair once longed for something- wealth, power, love, revenge. Whatever it was, you all wanted it, and you did everything you could to get it. And what happened after you got it all? You lost it, as well as your lives. Aren't I correct?_ "

The characters nodded without breaking eye contact with the entity who called herself Zovuta.

Hades pondered for a moment. "Zovuta?" he said. "Never heard the name before."

" _I am not a God like you, Hades_ ," Zovuta explained. " _I am fear, misery, and iniquity mixed together. You all must've felt either one or all three upon your defeat. I overheard some of you talking about it, and I certainly made the right choice in bringing you all here to hear my offer._ "

"Your offer?" Cruella inquired. "What offer?"

" _A simple, pleasant offer_ ," Zovuta responded. " _I shall not give a speech about your mistakes. Not only do I want to cut to the chase as it were, I wish to know what your reactions are when I say, you all deserve what you desire most of all._ "

Everyone's reaction was quite obvious. It was a combination of confused looks, gasps, and elated small-talk.

Some characters however, like Captain Hook, were skeptical about Zovuta's offer. "How do we know this isn't a trick?" he questioned the entity.

" _I understand your concern, good Captain_ ," said Zovuta; " _but I assure you- every last one of you -this will work. Your enemies shall fall and you will rise. The only way this plan won't work is for the heroes (if they dare call themselves heroes) to claim victory again, if they can when my power intervenes._ "

This drained suspicion out of the characters and filled them with intense exhilaration. The deal was too good to be true. Yet the experiences they had long before entering the afterlife told them not to ponder but to automatically accept.

Zovuta gazed down at the characters below and smiled as she saw them all voice their agreements about taking her offer. " _Splendid_ ," she said. " _I knew you would respond with positive attitudes. All you have to do now is wait. Your rebirth is on the horizon. The fools who sought to defeat you shall watch you triumph. Show the world who truly deserves power and respect!_ "

Zovuta's words were met with a marvelous ovation. This was the last thing the characters did before they vanished into the darkness. Zovuta spent a few seconds relishing her success in convincing the villains she brought to her lair to trust her. If there was one thing the entity loved most, it was seeing people, the innocent and guilty alike, suffer mentally and physically. This immoral admiration had its roots in her own origin. She was birthed from the fears and dark imagination of the young and old, and she depended on these two factors to exist.

After becoming acquainted with the stories that ran under the name of Disney, Zovuta developed a plan to seize control of every young mind on the planet. She was yet to determine the next course of action, but accomplishing her goal came first, and she reveled in the possibility of global domination.

 _Who needs to pray when you know nothing can stop you?_ Zovuta thought. _I'll take a person of the strongest mind to stop me. Even if they take down a couple villains, it won't be a fun ride when I come to play. Now, if I'm correct the last time I checked up on the wretched boy, the countdown is soon to begin._

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Just in case you're wondering, the name " _Zovuta_ " is actually the word " _terrible_ " in Chewa (also called Nyanja, Chichewa, and Chinyanja), a language spoken in several African countries, like Malawi, Mozambique, Zambia, and Zimbabwe.


	2. A Party Gone Awry

Twelve-year old Nicholas Kendrick awoke to the blaring beeps of his digital alarm clock. He groaned. It was the weekend, a time when he never sets his alarm clock. Yet it was going off. He didn't need to ponder; he knew his seven-year old sister Amanda snuck into his room while he was out and set the alarm. She always does this, the pre-teen thought as he sat up.

After stretching his arms and back, Nicholas pressed his thumb on the snooze button, silencing the noise at last. He ventured to the bathroom and returned three minutes later feeling refreshed. From his dresser, he took out a pair of navy blue jeans and a black T-shirt decorated with a mediocre slogan written in crude, white lettering. The slogan said, "I Survived the Bone Smasher 5 Times! My Buddy Sleeps in School. He Calls Himself 'Hardcore'. Yeah, He's That Stupid!"

Nicholas took a Moment to recollect the year-old memory of riding the Bone Smasher, a popular roller coaster at the local amusement park, five times without vomiting or passing out. It was a feat that earned him praise from all the kids at school, including his best friend Jack, who (coincidence or not) was known by everyone as the "King of Slackers". No one knew exactly when it started, but Jack had a notable reputation for his inability to remain awake during school hours, and what really astonished students and teachers alike was that, once he fell asleep, it was nearly impossible to wake him up. The most thought-up theory everyone suggested was he spent every night in his basement playing " _Kingdom Hearts_ ", trying desperately to get past the one level people like him could never get past.

The image of his best friend constantly failing a video game caused Nicholas to chuckle. "He seriously can't be that stupid," he said to himself.

After his laughter subsided, Nicholas exited his room and went downstairs. In the living room, he saw Amanda and their father, Eric, watching an episode of " _DuckTales_ ". In the kitchen, he found his mother, Pamela, cooking chocolate chip pancakes and cheese omelets. Sensing her son's presence, Pamela turned away from the stove and said, "Well, good morning, sleepy head."

"Morning, Mom," Nicholas replied. "I didn't expect everyone to be up this early on a Saturday."

"Did you really forget?" Pamela asked, returning to her cooking.

"Forget what?" Nicholas inquired.

"Today is your cousin Daniel's birthday."

"Really? Gee, I nearly forgot about it. He's turning five, right?"

"He is. Now, your Aunt Vanessa and Uncle James told me that they want us to come before noon dressed in formal clothes."

The smile on Nicholas' face fell. "What for?" he asked.

"Last Thursday, your other cousin Stephanie won a blue ribbon for a project she did for her school's science fair," Pamela explained. "They want to celebrate her accomplishment as well; therefore, we're all going to dress formally. In other words, you better find a more appropriate shirt to wear."

"But, Mom," Nicholas argued; "Dan's turning five-years old! No kid his age would want to wear a suit and tie on his birthday!"

"Nick," Pamela replied in a solemn but gentle tone of voice; "not one of your excuses is going to change my mind, nor will it change your Aunt and Uncle's minds. Now go upstairs and find a different shirt."

As much as he wanted to continue fighting for his right to wear what he pleased, Nicholas quickly remembered all the arguments he had with his mother and how she always came out as the victor. Heaving a long sigh, the pre-teen turned around and headed towards the stairs.

Nicholas still wanted to wear his T-shirt, and, after browsing through the inventory in his closet, he was struck by an idea. One of the fancy shirts he owned was a dark gray button down shirt. It would be easy for him to keep his T-shirt on without upsetting anyone. The weather app on his phone forecasted lots of sunshine and temperatures up to ninety degrees Fahrenheit, so there was a downside. Hopefully, his Aunt and Uncle would have the party indoors- he prayed to God for it.

By the time Nicholas returned to the kitchen, breakfast was ready. When his mother laid eyes on him wearing the button down shirt, he stretched his arms out and asked, "Will this work?"

Pamela smiled and replied, "As long as you button up, I'll allow it."

She stepped forward and kissed her son on the cheek. Nicholas cringed slightly. He didn't like to be kissed by his mother- he found it embarrassing, even when they weren't in public. He immediately wiped his cheek while Pamela wasn't looking. Then he went to the refrigerator and withdrew the glass pitcher of orange juice.

Eric and Amanda entered the kitchen, enraptured in by the aroma of hot pancakes. Nicholas set the pitcher of juice on the table while Pamela collected four glass cups from one of the cabinets.

"Hey, son; looking sharp," Eric remarked when he saw his son's attire.

"Thanks, Dad," Nicholas replied.

As the family sat down to eat, Amanda looked up at her brother. "So, Nick," she began; "did Mom tell you about Daniel's birthday?"

"Yes, Amanda, she did," Nicholas responded with no interest in the matter.

"Are you glad I set your alarm clock last night?" Amanda asked.

If his brain wasn't fully awake, Nicholas' response would have been "Why do always go in my room when you're forbidden to enter?!". Fortunately, he had wet his face with cold water in the bathroom to keep himself alert, so he took a Moment to think of something else to say- something that wouldn't anger his parents.

"I guess I am," the pre-teen finally said.

"Wonderful," Amanda replied. "I actually thought you would be mad at me, but I'm glad to be a big help."

Behind his false smile, Nicholas had an awful feeling that his response would encourage Amanda to set his alarm clock whenever she liked and he would be totally fine with it. He couldn't imagine how much of a pain the next couple of weekends would be, waking up to his screeching alarm clock and his sister under the impression that she was doing him a big favor. He was fully aware that- sooner or later -he would snap and go off on Amanda, and that would result in a heated argument with his parents, which wouldn't end well for him- none of those ever did.

After breakfast, Pamela joined Amanda and Eric in the living room. Nicholas spent the rest of the morning in his room, waiting for 10 o'clock to roll around. Pamela was usually stringent when the family prepared to journey to a specific destination in their station wagon, and her strictness would occasionally cause a situation that threatened their travels. Three summers ago, Eric had been struck with nausea during a long drive through an insufferable heat wave. It was funny until he vomited in his lap. Pamela cleaned the driver's seat and steering wheel before taking her husband's place and driving everyone home, not without making a call to her brother, informing him that they wouldn't be coming to visit. Eric laid down in the back while Amanda, who had been looking forward to the visit, sulked the whole trip home.

At about 9:55, Nicholas stopped by the bathroom to ensure that his bladder would lay low during the trip. His Aunt and Uncle's house was an hour and a half away, only if there wasn't any traffic. Hopefully all the roads were free of any construction and mishap, Nicholas thought. It'll surely make Mom happy.

The Moment he stepped out of the bathroom, Nicholas ran into Amanda, splendidly dressed in a magenta shirt and red poodle skirt decorated with flowers, holding a large blue book. It was the Supreme Disney Story Treasury, a gift from her parents on her sixth birthday. By far, it was one of Disney's best selling storybooks, for it contained thirty stories adapted from thirty animated movies, all of which were brilliantly detailed and worded. Some of the best (in Amanda's opinion) were The Lion King, Cinderella, Pinocchio, Bambi, and Zootopia. Despite the size and weight of the thing, a copy of the storybook costed roughly thirty-five dollars- quite a steal to say the least.

When he saw the book, Nicholas silently groaned. He had nothing against Disney media; one time in fact, when his sister wasn't around, he looked through the book and was enthralled by the amount of detail the production team put in each illustration. What he didn't like about the book was that Amanda would persuade as many people as possible to hear her read one of the stories. Their parents usually agreed instantaneously and some of their relatives would too. Nicholas on the other hand never had any interest in listening to his sister read; her reading skills were poor considering she was in the first grade, and, to Nicholas, it felt like everyone wasted an hour sitting in the living room doing nothing. As usual, though, the pre-teen forced himself to conceal his thoughts. He didn't need to get himself in another meaningless fight with his parents.

Amanda looked at her brother and gave him a huge smile. Nicholas forced a grin on his face. "I see you're bringing your storybook along," he remarked.

"I am," Amanda responded merrily. "I'm going to read all of Daniel's favorite stories to him. Aunt Vanessa and Uncle James promised they'd listen to me read too."

Aw, crap! Nicholas thought. That means Mom and Dad are going to listen to her read, and that means they're going to drag me along to hear her read!

Again, Nicholas forced his mouth to remain as a smile and he said, "That's nice of you to do on his birthday."

"I know, right?" Amanda replied. "And I'm hoping Mom and Dad would come along, and hopefully you. I actually thought you don't like these stories but I guess you're catching on."

And I thought you would catch on to the fact I don't like to hear your terrible reading, Nicholas thought.

If he actually said that statement out loud, not only would he hurt Amanda's feelings, but it would severely anger his parents, resulting in an argument and a punishment of (perhaps) a week of tough chores.

Nicholas continued to falsely grin and his sister soon caught on. "Why are you staring at me like a weirdo?" she asked. "Are you lying to me?"

"No, I'm not lying," Nicholas stated, straightening himself up. "Not this time, I swear."

Just then, Pamela came marching up the stairs, obviously looking for them. Upon seeing her two children together and neatly dressed, she said, "Okay, kids, it's time to get going. Are we ready?"

"I'm ready!" Amanda exclaimed.

"So am I," said Nicholas. "Let's hit the road!"

Not another word was said. Nicholas and Amanda followed Pamela to the garage. Eric was already in the driver's seat, waiting for everyone else to pile in. Once they were all inside and buckled in, he turned the engine on, opened the garage door, and drove the station wagon onto the driveway. Once the garage door was shut and the car was driving down the street, the journey officially began.

Traffic on the major highways were tolerable at best. Just as Nicholas prayed for, there weren't any car accidents or road construction to slow everyone down- a massive relief for the whole family, they did not want to be late for the occasion. Eric did have to pull over to get gas, but, without going into an excessive amount of detail, the Kendricks would say the drive through the state went smoothly, and it supplied all four family members with a great sense of cheerfulness.

At around 11:50 AM, the station wagon turned onto the street where the house of James and Vanessa Glazier stood. While the sight of the family's house was easy to spot, it was the trio of birthday balloons tied to the mailbox that guided the Kendricks to the location of the party. The instant the car pulled into the driveway, the front door opened and the Glaziers spilt onto the front yard, greeting their visitors with open arms, letting them know right away that they were in for a wonderful time.

James Glazier was Pamela's older brother; a generous, intelligent, and handsome man who aided his company in making profit after profit year after year. His wife Vanessa obtained the same amount of generosity, brains, and looks as her husband, but instead of working in an office, she taught multiple courses at the local college, and her extensive knowledge earned her instant recognition by students and lots of respect from the other professors. Because of their income, the couple were able to afford a lavish house in a picturesque suburb, one large enough to raise their children- thirteen-year old Matthew Glazier, one of the best basketball players at his school, nine-year old Rebecca Glazier, who had a great interest in biology, and four-year old (or rather five-year old) Daniel Glazier, a lively boy and avid fan of " _The Lion Guard_ ".

A large, multicolored banner reading "Happy Birthday Daniel!" was suspended in the living room. Five pizza boxes stacked together were visible on a table in the kitchen; right next to them were several presents, wrapped in various sorts of wrapping paper. On the coffee table were numerous board games and puzzles, as well as a large bowl of potato chips and three rows of juice and soda. While the room wasn't as decorative as the Kendricks anticipated, the presence of the snacks and wrapped gifts were enough to generate a party atmosphere over the two families.

Eventually, 12 o'clock came around and the pizza boxes were opened, officially starting the party. Everyone helped themselves to as much pizza as they pleased. No one ate more than one slice per pie. Actually, Nicholas was the only person who had one slice of every pie, another feat all the kids at school would admire him for.

After lunch, everyone went about their own thing. Amanda, Rebecca, and Daniel played several rounds of the " _Disney Magic Kingdom Game_ " on the floor; Eric and Pamela chatted with James and Vanessa about various topics in the kitchen; and Nicholas and Matthew sat on the couch and watched TV. The two pre-teens had a notable connection, a brotherly bond all relatives noticed since the boys were five. The top trait of the duo was their fascination with sports, mainly basketball. Whenever one of them came over, they would head outside and play numerous games of basketball in the driveway. Today, unfortunately, Nicholas and Matthew could not go out and have fun. Their parents would never allow them to soil their fancy clothes with dirt or sweat.

At 2 o'clock, Vanessa poked her head in the living room and announced, "Alright, everybody, it's time for the piñata!"

Daniel sprung to his feet and hurried to the backyard. "Yay!" he cried. "I've been waiting all day for this!"

"Come on, Nick," said Matthew. "Mom agreed to let you control the piñata."

"I don't know why, but I thought there wouldn't be a piñata," Nicholas replied. "You know, being that this party is also to honor Rebecca's science thing."

"Whatever, dude," Matthew told his cousin, following his siblings out the back door. "You're still taking the dragon's reigns."

Nicholas didn't reply. He merely got off the couch, turned off the TV, and ambled behind his older cousin.

Matthew wasn't lying. There was a piñata, one in the form of a classic green dragon, and Nicholas was given the rope that suspended it in the air. As birthday tradition dictates, he would hoist the piñata up and down while his cousins and sister took turns swinging a plastic, yellow baseball bat at it, trying to break it open, in hopes to collect all the candy stuffed inside; and, just like how he would receive the first slice of birthday cake, Daniel was the first to take ten swings at the cardboard dragon.

As the birthday boy jumped up and swung the bat furiously at the piñata, Nicholas couldn't help but smile. Seeing his youngest cousin have so much fun made him recall the birthday parties of his early childhood, when he would ecstatically spring into the air and strike the piñata; the force of the final blow always knocked one of the papier-mâché creature's limbs clean off, and out would spill all the chocolate bars, lollipops, M&M's, and jelly beans his parents had filled it with. Along with the cake, the presents, and all the other party games, the piñata always made his birthdays special.

He was obviously too old now to have one on his next birthday, but Nicholas didn't care. He was busy relishing every wonderful memory of the past, stopping of course to pull the piñata's rope and toy with Daniel. The birthday boy managed to dent the sides of the dragon, but it was still holding itself together. He handed the bat to Amanda and walked behind Rebecca, patiently and eagerly waiting for another turn.

Nicholas was more than ready to mess with his little sister; but, before he had any chance of doing so, Eric and Pamela started cheering for Amanda. Normally, this wouldn't affect anyone as it was only encouragement for a child to be their best. It was different in the eyes of Nicholas Kendrick. From the day of reason, he believed that his parents perceived his sister as a gift from God and him as nothing. The pre-teen's opinion could easily be passed off as Eric and Pamela's admiration of Amanda's delightful personality. No matter what anyone said, however, Nicholas remained convinced that his mother and father favored his sister more than anyone else, and the anguish that befell on him five years ago was all the evidence he had to support his claim.

The whack of the baseball bat was not enough to snap Nicholas back to reality. The cheers of his parents continued as his Aunt and Uncle called out to him, telling him to pull the rope to make it more fun for Amanda. He didn't comply- he was lost in a horrific flashback, a recollection of the disaster that unfolded all around him. He had no one to help him escape that day. His parents weren't there- they were somewhere else, with Amanda.

"NICK!"

Matthew's voice pierced Nicholas' ears. He instantly yelped in fright, nearly losing his grip on the rope. The piñata dropped slightly, giving Amanda another chance to hit it with the bat. This time, she managed to wound the beast. A small hole was now visible on its right flank, as well as the wrapper of a Reese's Peanut Butter Cup. Amanda and Daniel screamed in delight, knowing that they were a couple swings away from all the sugary goodness loaded inside.

"Nick are you okay?" Matthew inquired. "It looked like you zoned out for a second."

"I'm fine, Matt," Nicholas stated in a low voice laced with anger. "Don't get scared over nothing."

"Are you sure?" Matthew asked.

"It's nothing!" Nicholas insisted.

"Hey, I was just asking," Matthew said before walking away. "No need to yell."

Nicholas snorted before returning his gaze to the adults. Immediately, he noticed that his mother was absent. She hadn't gone inside. The pre-teen found out a split second later that she was now standing where Matthew stood.

"Nick, your sister's swinging the bat but the piñata's not hopping in the air," said Pamela. "How come you're not making it fun for her?"

In an emotionless voice, Nicholas responded with: "I don't think she deserves it."

"Nick," Pamela uttered; "that's not very nice or fair for your sister. I can't believe you would think of such a thing."

"She doesn't deserve it," Nicholas muttered.

Pamela ignored her son and continued her rant. "It seems that every time she is involved in something fun, you turn into a different person. You get sulky, you won't talk to anyone, you just become somewhat reclusive."

"She doesn't deserve it," Nicholas repeated.

"I just don't see any reason for you to act like a child," Pamela stated. "You're twelve-years old, in middle school, and yet, you just can't help but let your attitude control you, for no reason at all!"

Nicholas couldn't contain his emotions any longer. "She doesn't deserve it!" he growled, pulling the rope with all his strength.

The rope yanked the piñata up and it crashed into the tree branch supporting it. If Nicholas had released the rope, the dragon would've fell to the ground. Instead, the pre-teen pulled it again. His incredible strength not only dragged the piñata over the branch, but it also widened the existing hole on its flank. Knowing what was about to happen, Daniel sprinted to the tree and sprang into the air. His timing was perfect. The piñata plummeted forward and the boy's fist met the beast's flank at the right moment. The instant the piñata crashed to the ground, its side was ripped open, spilling candy all over the grass.

James and Matthew reacted with a simple "Whoa!" but Amanda, Rebecca, and Vanessa barely reacted. Daniel bent down, grabbed the wrecked piñata, held it over his head, and cried, "WAHOO! I AM DANIEL GLAZIER, THE PIÑATA SLAYER! ALL SHALL BOW BEFORE ME!"

With that, Daniel dropped the piñata and began collecting the candy, primarily all the Peanut Butter Cups he could find. Amanda rushed over and starting gathering as much candy as she could.

Pamela grabbed Nicholas' wrist and dragged him into the house. The pre-teen didn't resist- he knew what he had done, he just couldn't stop fuming. He also knew the script his mother used for arguments of this degree. There was no doubt he would ever win a fight, but all he wanted was to finally get his point across.

Pamela let go of Nicholas' wrist once they were in James and Vanessa's room and the door was closed. "Nicholas Kendrick," she began; "I cannot believe you! Your nasty behavior is landing you in hot water; don't you know that?!"

Without cringing or showing any emotion on his face or in his voice, Nicholas answered his mother with: "I do."

"Well I don't believe you!" Pamela snarled. "I don't think even your father believes you! We both agree that it's time you start acting your age!"

"I always act my age," Nicholas opposed, continuing to express no emotion towards his wrongdoing.

"That doesn't explain why you keep doing bad things to your sister!" Pamela yelled. "I mean, Holy Mother of God, Nicholas, whenever the time is right, you always find a way to humiliate your loved ones. Is that what makes you feel good about yourself?! Making someone you love cry and feel like the worst person on the planet?!"

Slowly but surely, Nicholas' face began to change in accordance to the sentiments flowing with his blood. It was not of remorse however; it was of intense resentment. "I do not," the boy replied; "but perhaps, if you guys weren't so attached to Amanda, I wouldn't act like a jerk to anyone!"

"Oh, I'm sorry for ignoring you for the past seven years!" Pamela said sarcastically. "I'm sorry that your father and I have trouble balancing the love we-!"

"It's not the love for me and Amanda, Mom!" Nicholas barked. "It's the love for the person you and Dad abandoned!"

Pamela glared at her son with eyes the size of saucers. "Abandoned?!" she gasped. "Nicholas Kendrick, how dare you think that-!"

"Don't even fake your guilt!" Nicholas roared. "That's what you've done long after you left him behind! All you care about now is Amanda, Amanda, and only Amanda!"

The feud between son and mother grew more and more heated. Eventually, Nicholas' rage had gotten the better of him and he shoved his mother back when she was about to say something back. Then, without proper thinking, Pamela stepped forward and slapped her son. The boy didn't collapse on the floor; he remained standing with a hand to his cheek, breathing quietly and rapidly.

Again, Pamela didn't think but allowed her own anger to control her actions. "I don't care what it is that makes you act like a baby, but you can bet that your father and I will do everything in our power to beat it out of you, without any actual beatings," she said. "Until we go home, you will stay up here and think about what you've done. And when get home, you are grounded for a month- no video games, no socializing with friends, no nothing! You will do all the chores we give you, and you will not argue! This conversation is over!"

Pamela stormed out of the bedroom, slamming the door behind her. She didn't utter a final rebuke- she believed she had done her duty in disciplining her eldest child. What she forgot to deliberate was the possibility of getting the complete opposite of what she expected from the pre-teen.

Nicholas did not move for a long time; his hand remained on the spot where his mother's hand had connected. His cheek stung when his fingers slid down it. Nicholas' breathing increased in volume as his rage intensified. He could hear his own heartbeat and feel it pound against his chest, as if he had ran through the state to get to his cousins' house. The memories of the past only served to feed the fire within him. The sense of betrayal and uncontrollable anger constricted his common sense, and the immoral urge to relieve himself of the stress building in his soul was now creeping deep into his brain. It screamed at him to act, and when it was all too much to bear, the pre-teen surrendered to the demons inside.

Nicholas nearly threw the door off its hinges when he reached for the doorknob and forced it open. He stomped down the hallway towards the stairs. Whether it be a simple slip or karma kicking him in the ass, when Nicholas was halfway down, he mistook a step and fell, hitting the side of his forehead on the railing. Unbelievably, the pre-teen did not fall unconscious. He staggered to his feet and placed a hand on the spot where he hit his head. First there was the recognizable throbbing sensation above his eyebrow, and then the appalling sight of blood smeared on his fingers.

Nicholas growled, then yelled in enragement before darting down the stairs and into the living room. He jumped off the fourth step and stomped on his landing, hoping it would expel a great amount of anger out of him. It barely had an effect- it didn't decrease his rage or bring him to his senses; it didn't even attract his mother or anyone else into the house, and that was something out of the ordinary.

The noise the landing made didn't matter to the pre-teen. He was more focused on getting rid of his rage, and, to his anger-plagued mind, the best way to do so was to punch something soft until he wore himself out. The couch pillows were the perfect object to carry the deed out; so he did just that.

As he mercilessly battered one of the pillows, imagining it as a bully from elementary school, Nicholas' fist smashed into something solid. After clutching his hand and crying out in pain, the pre-teen looked down to see what he had punched. It was Amanda's Disney Storybook. The very sight of it made his anger rise again. He associated the book with his sister, who he dubbed the origin of his five-year old heartache. If it wasn't for her, none of these would have happened- he wouldn't be so moody, nor would he be flung into random fits of anger. Of course, because both parents never acknowledged his anguish appropriately, the boy gave no second thought in committing another terrible act against his sister.

Nicholas swiftly seized the storybook and proceeded to bash it into the couch. Not satisfied by this, he tried to tear the book apart with his bare hands. He was only able to tear several pages out, about three at a time. And when he had enough of this, the pre-teen finished his fit by throwing the ruined book into the dirty fireplace.

For thirty seconds, the living room was filled with an unholy silence; the only sounds that could be heard were the partygoers outside and Nicholas' deep breaths. The gravity of his wrongdoing finally entered the pre-teen's mind and he sank to his knees with his hands clutching his brunet hair, seemingly ready to rip it all out. There were no tears but an incalculable sense of guilt in the boy's heart. While he could now admit he was sorry, a part of Nicholas demanded him to keep his vow never to let go of the incident from long ago; and that meant he had to get his family to understand what he went through.

Nicholas stood up and sighed. "What the hell am I to do?" he asked himself. "Mom and Dad will kill me with whatever they see fit. If only I hadn't… no, if they actually cared about Douglas, they would've been there to help us!"

Guilt and anger fought in the pre-teen's intellect, with guilt struggling to keep its place while anger wanted to control him a second time. Nicholas knew that the consequences would be greater once his rage returned, and he fought alongside his contrition.

The battle was arduous, especially since he was exhausted from his fit of temper; however, a new factor added weight to the boy's effort to contain his emotions. As odd as it was, the temperature gradually lessened as time went on. This baffled Nicholas. It was July, it was impossible for it to get cold this time of year. How was this happening?

Nicholas scanned the living room in confusion and fear, and then, looking back at the fireplace, he saw something just as unfeasible. The destroyed book was now being consumed by a growing fire. The pre-teen's jaw dropped. Not only did the fire appear without warning, but it was also an eerie green color, about the same hue of his eyes. Nicholas stepped towards the fireplace, captivated by the unnatural sight before him. "How the hell?" was all he managed to say before the temperature dropped to that of a blizzard and a sudden blast of smoke swallowed him.

Nicholas feel to his knees again as he covered his head with his arms. The roar of the wind around him was deafening. It was as if he was in the center of a tornado, trapping him, taunting him, forcing him to cower like a scared child.

Then, a new sound began to taunt the pre-teen. It was laughter- maniacal, wicked laughter. Nicholas forced himself to look up. When he did, the sight before him brought his heart to his throat. All around him, mixed in with the whirling wind, were the faces of random characters, young and old, human and animal, staring at him with their malevolent glares and cackling madly. A few of them held their arms up and waved pieces of paper in their hands. It took a moment for Nicholas to realize they were pages of the storybook.

At last, Nicholas found words. "Wh-what do want from me?!" he screamed.

The faces of the characters vanished as the laughter of a new character became audible. He couldn't determine where it was coming from, the light suddenly grew dark and the frigid air felt like ice; but Nicholas soon got his answer.

A pair of gray, hellish eyes and a wide mouth, exposing a row of sharp, jagged teeth, appeared before him. The apparition chuckled as it told Nicholas: " _You already gave us what we want. You were the right choice after all._ "

"What?" Nicholas inquired.

His gasp was met with the petrified screams of Amanda, Pamela, and Eric. Evidently, they heard the din and ran inside to investigate. Instead of finding Nicholas on the floor by the fireplace with Amanda's storybook torn and covered in soot, they had entered the house to find the unholy sight of a demon in the living room.

Nicholas was unable to confirm that from where he sat, he only assumed that was the case. His instincts told him to scream out to his family, warning them to run, to hide, to do anything to save themselves. But it was too late.

The face in the wind cackled as the bodies of Amanda, Pamela, and Eric were sucked in. Hoping to save his family, Nicholas jumped up and tried to grab his sister. The next he knew, an unknown object smashed into the side of the pre-teen's head. His limp body dropped to the floor, amid the sounds of the screams, the wind, and the malicious laughter.


	3. One Conscience Personal, the Other Given

The first element to greet Nicholas when he regained consciousness with the glacial air. He shivered as his ears rang for a good minute or so. The house had grown eerily dark; it seemed like he had been out cold for hours and had woken up in the middle of the night. If it was, wouldn't someone have noticed him, moved him to a room or on the couch, and treated his wound while waiting for him to wake up?

The pre-teen placed a hand over the spot where the object had struck him. Coincidentally it was the same spot he hit when he fell on the stair railing. The wound was now larger thanks to whatever had been thrown at him- he assumed it because he felt more blood on his hand when he removed it from his head.

Nicholas cursed silently before climbing to his feet and cautiously making his way to the kitchen. He began to feel anxious as he felt his way around the house. His dormant childhood trepidation rose with every step he took. There was no telling if the entity responsible for this was still present in the house, and with nothing to protect him, he was vulnerable for another attack. Only God knew if it was lying in wait, ready to strike him from any direction of its choice.

The pre-teen did not take any chances; he slowly proceeded to the kitchen, stopping every so often to listen to any new sounds. His only source of light (so rare it was to find a light source) came from the glass pane of the sliding door. Nicholas could see that the sky had changed from light blue to indigo. Indeed, he must've been unconscious for hours, but that still didn't explain where everyone was.

Quietly patting the wall, Nicholas found one of the light switches, flicked it on, shielded his eyes until they adjusted to the brightness, and then staggered to the counter. He wet several paper towels and wiped the wad on his forehead to remove the blood. After drying the wound and washing his hands, he returned his attention to the darkened sky. It was plausible that he had been unconscious for more than he expected, but still, if hours had passed, there would be people by his side.

Like most individuals with a great interest in practical jokes and special effects, the occurrence in the house would be considered nothing more than a perfectly executed prank. It was credible theory; yet it had a reasonable flaw: everything that happened could only be achieved by the same effects used in big budget movie productions. Aunt Vanessa and Uncle James' jobs gifted them superabundant paychecks, but the pre-teen knew for a fact that they would not waste tons of money on a prank of unreal proportions.

Wait. Aunt Vanessa and Uncle James; are they alright?! Nicholas thought.

He hurried to the sliding door and forced it open. Poking his head outside, Nicholas was greeted by the sight of the Glaziers sitting at the picnic table on the porch, eyes closed and heads resting on neighboring shoulders. Chocolates, taffies, and lollipops were scattered all over the table, and the remains of the piñata, the rope, and the baseball bat were gone, most likely disposed of after he was ushered inside by his mother.

The abnormality of the scene struck Nicholas was an intense sense of curiosity and concern. He rushed to the table and slammed his hands on the wooden surface. "Uncle James! Aunt Vanessa!" he shouted. "Are you guys alright?! Listen there's a problem! I don't know how explain this but…guys? Matt! Rebecca! Dan! Guys, wake up!"

Nicholas screamed, pounding his fists on the table, and even resorted to shaking his cousins' shoulders to wake them up. In spite of all the noise, no one reacted to the pre-teen or his attempts to get their attention. They appeared to be dead. However, he discovered they were still breathing. Were they sleeping? Impossible; they would have been able to respond. He couldn't ponder a good reason what had become of them, the consternation synchronizing with the rhythm of his thumping heart was taking its toll on the pre-teen, nearly throwing him into a violent fit of panic.

Expeditiously digging into his pocket, Nicholas pulled out his phone to call for help. The device exhibited no malfunctions until the pre-teen finished dialing the number and tapped the "call" button. Holding it to his ear, he heard nothing. No ringing, no breathing, only nothing.

Nicholas reattempted the call. Nothing. He dialed the numbers of people he knew. Nothing. "What the hell is going on?!" the pre-teen yelled. "Why won't they pick up?! How is this happening to me?! Why is this happening?! WHY, GOD DAMN IT?!"

Nicholas pounded his fists on the picnic table one last time, not caring at all if his phone would get damaged. With all the noise he was making, surely one of the neighbors would've stepped outside or poked their head out the window and demanded him to keep it down. Nicholas glanced around as he steadily breathed in and out. No one appeared, no one shouted at him. He gazed up at the dark sky. No moon, no stars, not even the flickering lights of a passing air liner- just a dark hue of indigo.

This was all too much for the pre-teen. The idea that the paranormal was to blame did not fully register until he analyzed every aspect of the event. Nicholas remembered how the temperature plummeted to an insufferably cold degree, he recalled spotting a little green fire consuming the ruined storybook, and, most vivid of all, he recollected every moment of being trapped in the vicious vortex, being taunted by dozens of fictional characters who waved pages of the book in their hands and paws, and the face in the wind- the Tartarean eyes, the teeth of a shark, and the voice which shared a snake's hiss and a chilling echo -smiling at him before his parents and sister were pulled into the vortex and his attempt to save them was botched by an object to the head.

Along with the current condition of the world around him, the pre-teen was finally convinced that a supernatural force had taken his family and stopped the world in its tracks; well, he wasn't sure if the world had come to a halt if it was night out, but the clock on his phone had stopped on 2:17. That wasn't what bothered Nicholas though. He did reflect every second of his nightmarish experience and eventually concurred that an entity had appeared and terrified him, but exceedingly important questions still remained and demanded to be answered. Why did this happened? Why was his family taken? And what did the entity mean when it told him: " _You already gave us what we want. You were the right choice after all._ "?

Nicholas was bewildered. He was the right choice for what? What did it (or they) want from him? Were they there only for his family? He couldn't think of anything else the entity would've wanted. Then he remembered something important: the numerous characters that appeared before him. They were all from stories he had known since childhood, and the fact that they held pages from Amanda's storybook created a second aspect of the mystery. "No," Nicholas uttered to himself. "No, that couldn't have been…but, why the book as well?"

Without giving it another thought, Nicholas ran back into the house and straight to the dark living room. He needed to check the fireplace to see if the storybook had been taken with his family. Right before he could cross the wide threshold, the light from the kitchen revealed another bizarre sight: the Disney storybook sitting on the couch, intact, untarnished, and undisturbed.

The pre-teen rubbed his eyes and did a double-take before briskly walking towards it. "But I tore this apart and threw it in the fireplace!" Nicholas gasped as he grabbed the book. "How could it be here where I first found it?! That thing must've done this! But why? To keep screwing with me?!"

There was no time to continue inquiring himself; he immediately began examining the storybook. On the outside, it appeared exactly how he saw on his sister's sixth birthday, with the same illustrations, the same text, and the same design. If the entity was screwing with him, the changes wouldn't be so easy to spot. In spite of this possibility, Nicholas made a guess as to what the vortex really was- a distraction produced by the specter so it could get what it wanted; but if it was after the book, why was it still there? And why did it take his parents and sister anyway?

Opening the storybook and carefully flipping through the pages, more pieces of the puzzle fell into place. Anyone would think Nicholas was getting scared over nothing but a ruined storybook; he wouldn't care though, for what he saw explained the appearances of the characters in the hellish storm.

Nicholas discovered that only three stories in the entire book- Bambi, Tangled, and Frozen -were still complete, while the remaining twenty-seven had the identical difference: at least four pages of each story had been removed, not torn out like one would expect, but it appeared as if the pages were never part of the finished product. A fact even more profound was the place where the missing pages once were: the story's climax, which was either two to three paragraphs or a marvelous illustration or both, and the cover page of the next story.

Twenty-seven stories had been robbed of their endings, a find that surprised and puzzled Nicholas. This explained the presence of the characters earlier but not the reason why his family was taken. Perhaps it was a random act, but if it was intentionally, was it simply to torment him? "I don't get it," he ranted to himself. "That thing, whatever the hell it was, kidnapped my family and wrecked my sister's book- well, wrecked it again -but what's the purpose here?! If it took them to some other realm, why didn't it take me with them?! And why did time stop altogether?! I don't freaking get it!"

The pre-teen yelled in frustration before dropping the storybook, which landed with a thud that echoed throughout the house, and taking a seat on the couch. His rage wasn't as potent as it was when his mother slapped him, so he was able to calm down much faster than usual. While he was fortunate enough to tame his emotions, the question of why the entity robbed him of his family recommenced pestering Nicholas, and it threatened to invigorate the sense of misery. A true pain it would be, especially with the added, commonplace question of "what did I do to deserve this?". Of course, someone would say he deserved it after acting aggressively towards his mother and inequitable towards his sister for no reason, but, if they were new acquaintances, they'd have no clue what happened five years before, and about the severe trauma that plagued the life and family of Nicholas Kendrick ever since.

Without warning, a brilliant light shined through the kitchen windows. Nicholas looked at the sliding door and watched as the glow grew larger and brighter until the source revealed itself. It was a floating white orb, slowly but surely approaching the house. He froze, staring at the thing in awe; within his intellect, two potent forces commanded him to act in different ways. Curiosity told him to walk towards it while fear ordered him to run, warning him the sphere could be another apparition coming to intimidate him once more. It wasn't until the sliding door opened by itself that Nicholas finally gave in to fear; he sprang off the couch and hid behind the armrest farthest from the kitchen.

From his position, the pre-teen observed the orb enter the living room, then enlarge and shape itself to the form of a human. The light soon faded, and the human who stood before Nicholas was anything but a malicious specter. There before his eyes was a woman about his mother's height with blonde hair, turquoise eyes, and red lips; she wore a light blue dress that twinkled like stars, carried a golden star-tipped wand, and behind her were large white fairy wings.

Nicholas had a good idea who this was; no, he knew exactly who it was, and her very appearance left him flabbergasted. If the entity before hadn't shown up and did what it did, the pre-teen would've considered her arrival a figment of his imagination; but the wound on his head reminded him he was in the real world, and identified the woman before him aas the mother-like character from the story of Pinocchio: the Blue Fairy.

Upon first glance, Nicholas felt strangely happy to see a character from a children's story; mostly because she always appeared when characters were in need of help and gave them advice on how to solve their situations. But he quickly noticed a grave expression on the fairy's face and his excitement dimmed. This wasn't going to be a pleasant encounter. Even so, odds are she had knowledge of what transpired before him and she had come to help him, or at the very least explain why it happened.

Silence surrounded them for a moment or two before the Blue Fairy finally spoke. "Dear Nicholas," she began in her tender tone; "the hate which corrupts your soul has taken its toll, and has now brought evil upon you and your loved ones. I wished to have come once I fully learned of your demons; I see now that evil has claimed what it desired the most."

Nicholas did not break eye contact as he rose to his feet. "Evil? Demons? My family? You know about this?" he inquired.

"As far as I've been told," the Blue Fairy responded; "your relationship with your kin has been splintered by tragedy, and with it came the burden of animosity. Do speak with honesty; do you believe it in your heart your family is to blame?"

The warm sensation Nicholas felt inside completely diminished and anger crept back into his mind. "Do you know how many times I've heard that from people?!" he growled. "They all say the same thing, that I only do it for attention!"

"The people around you have their side of the argument; they believe…"

"Look, maybe I've been affected in one too many ways," Nicholas snapped; "but that doesn't mean anyone should criticize me! They weren't even there! They don't understand what it feels like to stand so close to death! To know what it feels like to be…"

Just as swiftly as vexation returned to him, the wretchedness that had clung to Nicholas for five long years reentered his intellect. He immediately realized what he was setting himself up for if the rage were to get the better of him, the rage that had already taken a powerful hit on his family and could've ruined his youngest cousin's birthday party. He also understood that this could be the only opportunity to learn more about the entity, and why it took his family and the ending pages of twenty-seven Disney stories. Still, the dreadful memory discomposed the pre-teen, and he finished his last sentence with: "To be so helpless."

Unlike the boy, the Blue Fairy had not been flustered by the outburst, save for her expression which had softened a bit, indicating that she was willing to express sympathy for poor Nicholas. "You're right that no one was there in your time of distress," she stated. "If the account of the calamity I was told is true, it's safe for me to assume your bitterness is due to your family's absence at the time. Do you wish to object, Nicholas?"

"No," Nicholas uttered gloomily. "What you said is true. I hate my Mom, my Dad, and my sister because they weren't there to help. I hate them day and night, wanting them to never forget their mistake, and that the fire could've been avoided! It didn't had to happen! If only they…they actually cared for us both!"

The Blue Fairy could see and hear how powerful the emotions within the pre-teen were. As much as she wanted voice her disappointment for his display of antagonism, she declined and placed a hand on Nicholas' shoulder, prompting him to look up at her. "I understand that your heart still aches and why you choose to resent those close to you," she said. "It has also become clear why you have been chosen."

"Chosen? For what? And by who?" Nicholas questioned with a slight sniffle.

"Evil, Nicholas," the Blue Fairy answered. "You were chosen by evil itself to help its plan to dominate the world. This entity, a nefarious force named Zovuta, feeds on the hostility, wickedness, and intolerance of every living man, woman, and child. Her plot to conquer the world is simple but powerful: she seeks to annihilate all that fills the hearts of people with love and morality, and in its place, hatred and sin."

"This sounds very serious," said Nicholas; "and, basically, this Zovuta chose me out of all people to help her plot for world domination? Why would I help her?!"

"Zovuta knows how much you loathe your family, your sister especially," the Blue Fairy replied. "You disapprove of all the attention she received after the tragic fire and how your parents seem to forget how it has affected you. It is not favoritism, but I do agree that their devotion is relatively unnecessary. By my knowledge, I believe Zovuta is planning to extract the kindness from your loved ones before taking on the world. I can assume that you were a top choice judging by the products of your wild fits."

The Blue Fairy pointed her wand at Amanda's storybook. Nicholas lowered his head and sighed. His sigh wasn't one of shame, it was one of displeasure. While the fairy was providing him with an explanation to everything regarding the specter, the pre-teen didn't like being called out for something he did out of anger, even in times like these where he would be stable enough to express regret over it.

"Listen; I know what I did was wrong, and I totally deserve the blame," Nicholas stated. "I wasn't thinking straight, I wasn't thinking about the consequences, but what does it even matter now?! That damned Zovuta is going to turn us all heartless, and yet you're going to scold me over a book?! Why the hell would someone evil need a kid's book for world domination?! I mean, come on, it's a book for God's sake!"

"It's more than that, Nicholas," the Blue Fairy explained, once again effortlessly composed. "Once a story is read, it becomes alive in the imagination of the person who heard it. I'm sure it has to you years ago. This particular storybook matters to Zovuta because it was owned by Amanda, one of the few people you're close to. After you destroyed it, she was able to put the second part of her plan into action, by removing the happy endings from many treasured stories, leaving the heroes in peril and putting the villains in control."

Nicholas sighed once more. He did perceive what the Blue Fairy had explicated, but his fading incredulity struggled to keep itself alive. The recollection of the entity subdued the sense and the pre-teen merely shook his head.

"I know you ruined your sister's book without intending to help evil," said the Blue Fairy; "but now that Zovuta is readying herself to cast wickedness upon the world, it is urgent that a soul strong-willed and valiant must be sent to stop her. I have already cast a sleeping spell over the world, prohibiting her from venturing further, but it will not last long."

Upon hearing that, Nicholas quickly debated if he should volunteer. It was a stupid idea, but his contrition demanded him to speak up. Someone had to go and stop the villains, and, while this would definitely serve as a punishment for putting lives in danger, the sentiments deep down wouldn't rest until he and his family reconciled.

"That should still give me time to set things right; right?" Nicholas boldly asked.

The Blue Fairy was quite surprised by the pre-teen's statement, but she thought for a moment then replied, "It will be very hard with the villains in the process of changing their stories, and, though I have come to warn you of what is yet to come and to see if you could help, I have my doubts if you are willing to embark on such a journey through the Disney realm."

"Perhaps if my family wasn't abducted, I wouldn't be willing to do anything," Nicholas declared. "I was a total jackass to my Mom and Amanda, and I'm sorry. Wouldn't it make us all happy if I could say those two words in front of their faces? If Zovuta is unable to carry out her plan with everyone on the planet asleep, and if I'm the only person who is awake, I should be the one who does all the dirty work. Sure, the chances that I'll barely survive are slim, but this was my doing, and I should be handed the task of putting things right in the story world- unless, you had another tactic in mind."

At first, the Blue Fairy remained silent, apparently reflecting on whether or not he was being honest. Nicholas prayed she would believe him. He was truly sorry for his foul demeanor and all he asked her was the opportunity to rescue his family and to atone for his indiscretions.

Giving the pre-teen a benign smile, the Blue Fairy presented her verdict. "I hadn't thought of another way of stopping Zovuta just yet, but given that you have proved your willingness to set things right, I hereby grant you the duty of saving the storybook heroes and thwarting Zovuta's plot. A portal to the realm will open soon, and once there, my magic will be aid you the whole journey through. In order to succeed and win back your family, you must hold your integrity close, never lose hope, and to keep your mind set on what is morally right."

As she spoke, the Blue Fairy raised her wand and pointed it at Nicholas. The pre-teen watched as the wand began to glow a brilliant white, the same color as the orb the fairy traveled in, before its star tip touched his forehead. A warm sensation filled him from his head to his feet, and as the light grew in intensity, he heard the Blue Fairy say, "I wish you luck, dear Nicholas. Remember, my magic will be by your side, and always let your conscience be your guide."

The light gradually faded away. It took some time before his vision stabilized, and when it did, Nicholas found himself once again alone. The Blue Fairy was gone, most likely had departed in the same white orb she arrived in. He sauntered to the sliding door and peered at the dark sky. There was nothing there like before. He looked at the picnic table where his unconscious relatives sat, then spotted something in his faint reflection: the wound on his head was no longer there. Placing a hand on his forehead, the pre-teen came to find the skin was indeed restored. He guessed that the Blue Fairy's magic had healed him, and took it as a sign that a protection spell was soon to be cast upon him.

Knowing that the portal to the Disney universe would open momentarily, Nicholas headed back to the living room. He wanted to make sure he didn't miss it. There was no telling how long it would last- five minutes, a minute and a half, thirty seconds, only the Blue Fairy knew. Nicholas was determined not let anxiety distract him; he only had one chance to save his family, and he vowed to do everything in his power to ban evil from seizing the world.

"Huh; funny how I started out as the world's dumbest ass," Nicholas remarked as he picked up the storybook; "and now I'm about to go on an adventure beyond comprehension; not to mention an adventure to save the world. Hopefully what the fairy said is true and that Zovuta hasn't done anything bad to my family yet; that there's still time for me to apologize. They won't forgive me right away, but it's worth the risk- hopefully."

The pre-teen turned to the couch and was about to step forward when a new voice shouted, "Hold on, Nicholas! Wait for me!"

It wasn't the abrupt arrival of the voice that startled the pre-teen; it was the fact that the voice was one of another familiar character from the story of Pinocchio. He turned in the direction of the fireplace and, from the mantlepiece, a small green cricket jumped into the air towards him. Nicholas didn't stagger back in fear, instead held the book out as far as his arms could stretch.

The cricket managed to land safely on the book cover. He set his red umbrella down, dusted his fancy outfit with his gloved hands, and then gazed up at the pre-teen. "Nice catch," he commented. "If you hadn't held the book out, I might've had some fall to the floor."

"Consider it the first signs of my changing character," Nicholas responded. "It's the thing I promised to the Blue Fairy before she left. So, what brings you here, little guy?"

The cricket chuckled before removing his hat and bowing. "Cricket's the name; Jiminy Cricket," he said. "I was sent by the Blue Fairy to ensure that you complete the mission without getting deluded by Zovuta and the other villains."

"I remember she told me her magic would be by my side throughout my journey," said Nicholas, raising an eyebrow. "She wasn't lying, was she?"

"Nope," Jiminy told the pre-teen. "Her magic will protect you alright, but you have to remember, Zovuta is evil in its purest form. She will do everything possible to get her way. The Blue Fairy always keeps her word to those who are good at heart; nonetheless, you're still gonna need a little guidance when confronting every villain you meet."

"I won't argue with that," Nicholas replied. "I'm not going to allow myself to get thrown down the wrong path. My family, and soon the world, is counting on me- and I guess you as well."

"That's the spirit!" said Jiminy. "That wicked Zovuta might've chose you for her plan, but you surely have a better card up your sleeve.

At that moment, the storybook began to glow a dazzling array of blue, purple, and white. Jiminy hopped onto Nicholas' shoulder and Nicholas swiftly set the book on the floor. He moved back as the light expanded and immediately formed a second vortex. While it wasn't huge as the pre-teen anticipated, the swirling wind was quite strong and he started to have trouble standing still.

Jiminy held on to his top hat and encouraged the pre-teen to enter the vortex. "The portal's open!" he said. "Don't hesitate, Nicholas! Come on; this is gonna be some adventure!"

Nicholas felt tense at the sight of the portal and the intensity of the wind. It reminded him of the vortex Zovuta appeared in, and the horrified screams of his family resonated in his ears. Scared as he was, the pre-teen mustered enough courage to step towards the portal.

"Hold on, you guys," Nicholas said, drawing in calm breaths. "I'm coming."

Standing a mere inch from the portal's edge, Nicholas continued to take deep breaths as he slowly and steadily counted, "One…two…THREE!"

Closing his eyes tight and taking a giant step forward, Nicholas threw himself and Jiminy into the blinding light.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Okay, I'm going to make this as clear as I can. While discussing this story with " _retro mania_ ", we settled on twenty-seven villains to appear in this story (I'm not counting Zovuta of course because she's an Original Character). That means this fanfic is going to be long with twenty-seven future chapters. I'm sorry that "Tangled" and "Frozen" aren't going to be included, but there's a long list of villains that aren't in this as well, so please hold back the urge to complain. Also, the Disney stories are not going to appear in chronological order (or the year they were released in theaters); in other words, if there's a Disney story you really want to see in this story, you're going to have to be patient and spend every day and night your fingers crossed. Okay, you won't have to break your fingers, but you get what I mean.


	4. One Hundred and One Dalmatians

Just as quick as he jumped into the portal, the brilliant lights dissipated and the roaring wind died out. Nicholas waited a couple seconds before opening his eyes. Due to the intensity of the portal's brightness, his vision was reasonably hazy. The fuzziness subsided a good ten seconds after the light faded away. The time between the blinding light and clear vision was uncomfortable to say the least, but as long as his eyes still functioned, there would be no existing complaints.

Nicholas' first impression of the supposed Disney realm was divided at best. When the Blue Fairy informed him of the dilemma, he expected the world to be plagued with a dark sky, dead vegetation, buildings in ruins, and villains running rampant, carrying out their evil deeds. Clichéd as the thought was, it was the first thought that popped in the pre-teen's mind. Recalling the state of his sister's storybook and the Fairy's elucidation of Zovuta's plot, he became aware of just how much hell he was about to endure. He had to enter twenty-seven Disney stories, find the heroes and villains of each story, and do everything possible to restore the happy endings.

So, which story am I starting with? Nicholas pondered.

The pre-teen shivered as he scanned the dim room. Regardless of the dust and decay, there was more than enough for a person to recognize the den of a lavish mansion. The air was cold and the fire in the fireplace had been reduced to embers. Judging by the room's décor, Nicholas would say the mansion was decades old, not centuries; if that was the case, the entire structure would have collapsed with the right amount of stress; and with a dying fire, it was clear that someone still resided in the place or was being used by squatters.

Nicholas took another look around, noting how his surroundings seemed to fill him with a sense of nostalgia. He believed he had seen this all somewhere. There was a list of Disney movies and cartoons that featured a decaying mansion, but one story had the right one. Multiple options buzzed through his head and the boy prudently contemplated each guess when he suddenly found himself staring straight into a pair of ghastly eyes.

The man that made Nicholas' heart skip a beat had an unnaturally dour expression, skin which was pale and featureless, and a head with several strands of aging hair resting on the scalp. It took the pre-teen no more than a second to realize he had been frightened by a portrait. Anyone would immediately laugh it off but Nicholas didn't; the painting caught the man's appearance excellently, and it continued to give him goosebumps as he glanced down at the inscription below it.

" **Lord Flint De Vil, 1903 – Eldest and Proudest Proprietor of De Vil Manor** "

De Vil. Only one person Nicholas could think of bared that name.

"Goodness me," came the familiar voice of Jiminy Cricket. "It looks like we're starting our quest with a visit to Ms. De Vil."

Jiminy had fallen off Nicholas' shoulder when they jumped into the portal, and when they arrived in the mansion, the cricket had landed on the floor and was nearly crushed when the pre-teen fell in shock at the unnerving painting. Upon seeing the portrait, he too recognized the story they had entered.

A second after Jiminy spoke, a strange noise gradually became detectable. It was at a high pitch and occurred at intervals. The noise got even stranger when a new sound came to be. Nicholas surmised it to be a door creaking open, followed by heavy footsteps and two men groaning. It was then that he figured out what the weird noise was: the whimpering and barking of many puppies. Obviously the arrival of the men excited them, but then there was a shout of "Shut up!" and the barking ceased, saved for the whimpering.

The man who yelled at the puppies, who had what could be determined as a British accent, then said, "Over here, Horace. With the rest of 'em."

The second man then spoke, also speaking with a British accent. "But, Jasper, shouldn't we put them somewhere nice so they won't get sick?"

"Here with the pups, you idiot! We've wasted too much time chasing the blasted runts and fighting off these savage hyenas! Let's fix ourselves up and get the job done!"

De Vil. Puppies. Jasper and Horace. There was no doubt where Nicholas and Jiminy were, but what exactly had been altered?

From outside the mansion walls, another noise grew with each passing second. First there was the soft blare of a horn. Then came the rising rumble of a motor. These sounds merged together and rose in volume. Nicholas hurried to the window and crouched down with Jiminy hopping onto his shoulder. Peering out into the snowy night, the duo spotted an extravagant red-and-black automobile hurtling down the road. It was tough to make out the driver but there was no time to wait and see.

"Quick, Nicholas, we better find a place to hide!" Jiminy urged.

Without hesitation, Nicholas dove behind the timeworn couch. Jiminy had grabbed onto the pre-teen's shirt before he fled and avoided falling a second time.

The piercing screech of tires made the duo's hearts quiver. They held their breaths as the front door was blown open. They heard Jasper and Horace, as well as the scared puppies, cry out in horror. Into view entered a slender woman with black-and-white hair, ominous eyes, and an enormous fur coat draped over her skeletal body. Just like his encounter with the Blue Fairy, Nicholas never imagined a real life Cruella De Vil, and witnessing her from his hiding spot was more terrifying than keeping himself out of sight.

He and Jiminy cowered as Cruella marched past them. A tense moment followed as the villainess stumbled across her henchmen. "B-blimey!" Jasper stuttered. "W-we didn't expect you t-to be back so s-soon!"

"Is it morning already?" a petrified Horace asked.

"No it isn't!" Cruella responded crossly. "I've left something here and I've come to retrieve it. And I see you haven't done the job!"

"We couldn't, you see!" Jasper explained. "The pups tried to hide from us but we cornered 'em; and when we did, we tried to get on with it, but then a couple of spotted hounds charged through the window and attacked us!"

"We did our best," Horace added; "and they won't be doin' us any more harm. Look."

Another period of silence came. Jiminy hopped off of Nicholas' shoulder and cautiously rushed from their hiding spot. "I'm going to see what's going on," he told the pre-teen. "Stay here until I come back."

Nicholas nodded and watched the cricket sprint in the direction of Cruella.

A second later, the villainess spoke with a delighted, sinister tone, occasionally letting out an evil chuckle. "Well, now what have we have here? Anita and Roger's precious dalmatians, here to save their poor little puppies, only to be bashed and lamed by stronger, smarter beings. How unfortunate."

"What'll we do with the brutes?" Jasper inquired.

"What do you think, you idiot?!" Cruella snapped. "Put them out of their misery and skin them, just like their worthless puppies!"

"Oh, right," Jasper uttered. "I nearly forgot; the fight must've took a lot out of me."

"Is it alright if we clean up before we get on with the job?" Horace asked.

Two sharp slaps resonated throughout the mansion. Nicholas cowered again and hoped that Jiminy wasn't in close range of the villains. Wherever Cruella and her henchmen were, he prayed for them to stay there; and yet, as he remained behind the couch, he wondered why he was overcome with anxiety when someone of his character would bravely (or foolishly) jump out of hiding and confront the evil-doers. Zovuta had waited for him to destroy Amanda's book, so chances were she was also watching over the villains and awaiting the moment to aid her minions and hinder his mission.

"Not until I get my fur!" Cruella roared at last.

"A simple 'no' would've been enough," Horace whimpered.

"Oh, shut up!" Cruella shouted. "We cannot wait any longer! I cannot wait another minute! If the police get a clue, it'll be the end of all three of us! Or shall I say four?"

Nicholas' pupils shrunk a good two sizes and his heart squeezed itself tight in alarm.

"Four?" Jasper scoffed. "There's only three of us here. There can't be a fourth person in this."

"Oh really?"

Footsteps echoed through the decrypted mansion. It sounded like they were approaching the den. Nicholas crawled back into the shadows and poked his head out the other side of the couch. His desperate search for a new hiding spot was cut short as the couch was suddenly dragged away. The pre-teen sprang up to make a run for the door, but two pairs of strong hands seized him on his third step.

Jasper and Horace forced Nicholas onto his feet. A red gloved hand reached under his chin and lifted his head up. The pre-teen found himself staring at the baleful face of Cruella De Vil. Her devil-like grin and her soul-piercing eyes weren't enough to petrify Nicholas a second time. Instead of displaying an innocent expression, he boldly stared back at the malicious woman with hate.

"How the devil did you get here?!" Jasper demanded as he shook the boy. There came no reply so he shook him again more vigorously. "How'd you sneak in, eh?! Answer me, damn it!"

Cruella lost patience and seized Nicholas from her men's grasp. "Enough already!" she barked, delivering another brutal slap to the tall henchman. "We have no time for debates! We have ninety-nine puppies and police all over England! The job must be done tonight!"

"Must we kill the parent dogs too?" Horace inquired.

"Did you not hear me, you dunce?!" Cruella replied. "If they're lame and in pain, end their suffering! I could use some extra fur in case I make a mistake or two. And judging by the marks from your little scuffle, we could also use a little help."

Since his capture, Nicholas kept his gaze locked on Cruella. His eyes narrowed and he quietly growled at what she had in mind for him. From his left and right, he heard Jasper and Horace chuckle and comprehend their leader's words. "I couldn't agree with you more," they said. "Yeah, it'll serve him right for trespassing!"

Cruella walked into the hallway and Jasper and Horace shoved Nicholas in her direction, physically ordering him to walk. The pre-teen kept his mouth closed and marched on with the duo behind him, ready to use force if he would attempt another escape.

Eventually, Nicholas found Cruella standing outside a door with her arms crossed and that wicked smile splashed across her face. "Alright, you little pillock," she began in a friendly but sinister tone; "given the circumstances, I cannot have you arrested- at least not immediately. I must say though, it must have been quite an endeavor to come all this way in this weather. Where do you come from?"

Nicholas ignored the question and said, "I've heard about you and your obsession. I guess this is where the missing puppies are, huh?"

"Correct," Cruella stated, her voice nor her expression had changed. "Nothing in this bland, monotonous world can or ever will gratify me more than the beauty, the majesty, and the absolute luxury of furs. I live for them, and it has been my honor to dream of them and bring them to the wardrobe. That is what the puppies are for, to help me make my latest dream my next stunning coat, and for the entire world to gaze upon me and envy my brilliance!"

"The world will surely envy you as you rot in prison!" Nicholas snorted.

Once again, Cruella's composure remained unruffled. She took a step towards the pre-teen and placed a hand on his cheek. "Don't be so cheeky, my dear fool," she said. "Scotland Yard will welcome the both of us if you don't help with the job. Jasper and Horace would appreciate it just as much as I do." She turned to her henchmen and told them: "I trust you'll have him assist in every way and keep him where I want him. Start with the first mutt you lay eyes on and continue until none of them are breathing. Any way you kill them is alright with me."

"Righty-o, Ms. De Vil," Horace responded while Jasper nodded.

Cruella opened the door and her henchmen grabbed Nicholas and threw him into the room. The puppies inside howled in fear and scurried to the farthest wall as the pre-teen landed on the cold carpet with a thud and a grunt. As he climbed to his hands and knees, he could hear Cruella laugh maniacally and the door creak shut.

The next moment found Nicholas being yanked up by Jasper. "Now look here, lad," said the tall henchman; "you heard word from word what she said. We've got a job to do and you're going to help us, whether you like it or not."

"And you won't try to make a run for it," warned Horace. "There's no way out of this room except for the window, and it's colder than an ice box out there."

"That's enough talking, Horace," said Jasper, clutching a fire iron. "It's about time we got on with it. First we pop 'em off, then we skin 'em."

Horace went over to an old wooden chair, broke off two of its legs, and tossed one of them to Nicholas. The puppies hid themselves in and behind every object in the room, trembling with extreme fright as they tried to stay quiet. The notion alone made Nicholas upset. In the past he had threatened his sister with violence whenever her curiosity or repetitive requests irritated him to no end, and just as one would expect, those threats never came to be and tensions between them settled down in the end with no interference from their parents- a rewarding circumstance to say the least.

Somewhere in the moment did the idea knock at the door. Nicholas eyed Jasper and Horace as he carefully stepped behind them. A swift hard blow to each head, that should do it. Abominable as knocking two men unconscious was, it would grant him and Jiminy enough time to devise an escape plan to get the puppies out.

The pre-teen's plot was interrupted by a thunderous crumbling noise and the resulting shriek of Cruella. Nicholas' arms fell to his sides and Jasper hurried to the door. "What's the matter?!" he yelled.

"YOU IDIOTS COULD'VE KILLED ME WITH YOUR TOMFOOLERY!" Cruella hollered.

"But we didn't do it!" Horace protested. "It was those puppies when they tried to outwit us!"

"NEVERMIND THE LITTLE BEASTS!" roared Cruella. "GET UP HERE AND HELP ME BEFORE I FALL!"

Jasper shook his head and dropped the fire iron. "Looks like the job's been delayed again, Horace, my lad," he sighed. "We better see what Ms. De Vil has gotten herself into."

A moment before Nicholas could act, Horace grabbed his shirt sleeve and said, "You're not going anywhere. We'll be sure of that."

"That's right," Jasper added. "You are going to stay here and give us a head start. Take that poker and get bashin' till we get back."

Nicholas remained silent as Horace dragged a sturdy chair across the carpet to the door. Jasper took hold of it and gave the boy a hostile warning. "And we're going to make sure you stay in this room. There's a lot of snow out there so don't try to escape at all. If you do, you can bet your arse we'll have you done up like a kipper!"

Nicholas didn't move from his current position. He simply watched Jasper and Horace leave the room with the chair. The second after the door was closed, he could hear the duo prop the chair in front of it, prohibiting the door's ability to open fully and stealing from him, Jiminy, and the puppies the easiest route to freedom.

Wait, where's Jiminy? Nicholas wondered.

Almost as quickly as he mentally asked himself, the cricket's voice sounded from a distance. "Psst, Nicholas. Over here; by the piano."

Nicholas traced Jiminy's voice to the outmoded instrument and, sure enough, there was the cricket standing right on top of it. He pointed his umbrella to his right and the pre-teen turned to find two adult dalmatians bruised and woeful. From memory, he drew the names of the aching dogs- the male with the red collar was Pongo and the female with the blue collar was Perdita -and their intrepid journey to save all fifteen of their puppies. He conjected that Zovuta had granted Jasper and Horace the upper hand, leaving the poor dalmatians in a terrible state. Just how terrible was it?

Pongo growled at Nicholas while Perdita looked away, blinking away tears. Jiminy hopped onto a nearby pillow which caught the male dog's attention. "Now, there's no need to get unfriendly, Pongo," the cricket reassured. "My friend and I are here to help."

"I hope you're right," Pongo replied in a low voice which defined his weakened state. "I'm not sure I can stand up."

"We tried to distract those men so our puppies could escape," Perdita explained miserably; "but they outsmarted us and struck us from behind, and now that devil woman is going to make a coat out of us!"

"Not if you're far away from this hellhole," said Nicholas. "They might've blocked the door, but we still got the window. The snow should break your fall. It shouldn't be that high since we're on the ground floor."

"But how will the puppies get to the window?" Perdita asked.

"Easy," Jiminy answered. "We'll make a ramp for them to walk up. It doesn't seem to be that high up, right, Nicholas?"

The pre-teen glanced at the window and prudently scrutinized it. They were dealing with a classic casement window- once it was unlatched, it would swing open, allowing the dogs to leave the room and embrace the wintry night. The snow appeared to be lightening up a little so they would have a good view of their surroundings in case the villains discovered they had fled the manor. Jasper and Horace also had a getaway vehicle, didn't they?

A good-sized window, the slightly improved weather, and hopefully the perfect method of escape; Nicholas thought. Everything is in place to restore this story's happy ending.

He looked back at Jiminy and responded with: "A chair and a footrest should do."

The sudden shouts of Cruella and the vibrations of the crumbling mansion caused everyone to shiver. At any moment the entire structure could come down on top of them. Nicholas and Jiminy had to get Pongo, Perdita, and all of the puppies outside immediately. Noting how bruised Pongo and Perdita were, his first priority was to know if they would be able to move on their own.

"Are you sure you can't get up?" Nicholas queried. "Did Jasper and Horace hit you on the back of the head or just wherever they could?"

"Perdy and I were struck at every angle," Pongo replied. "I think they did strike our backs only once but not our heads. Hold on a minute."

Pongo groaned as he cautiously stretched and struggled to get himself onto his legs. Perdita, unsure of what was yet to come if she stayed on the floor, also began to climb to her paws. It took a little over thirty seconds for both dalmatians to steady themselves, and once they could walk without any difficulty, Nicholas grabbed a chair and footrest and dragged them to the window. The improvised staircase was just as they hoped for. As long as Cruella and her henchmen were occupied, their escape would go unnoticed.

"Well done," Jiminy said to Pongo and Perdita. "Now all you got to do is climb out the window and help with the puppies."

Nicholas reached out and undid the latches. Then he swung the window open and was instantly overcome with snow and bitter wind, but he didn't back away. Instead he turned to the dogs and said, "One of you will stay at the window and help the puppies down; the other will go around to the front and make sure the truck is there. Is that a good plan?"

"That sounds good to me," Perdita responded.

"I'll go find the truck," Pongo volunteered; "and make sure all the puppies are safe. We may need to find a way to start it but let's not worry about that now."

"Definitely," said Nicholas, picking up the fire iron Jasper dropped. "And just so no one gets suspicious, I'll use this to sound like I'm whacking the pups while they're being led out."

"Good thinking," Jiminy said as he hopped onto Pongo's head. "I'll go with Pongo to look for the truck. We'll be back the moment we come across it."

With that, Pongo and Perdita clambered up the footrest, then the chair, and leapt out the window. Nicholas wasn't sure if either of them whined a little when they landed; what he did know was that Perdita returned to the open window while Pongo and Jiminy headed in a different direction, staying reasonably close to the mansion.

Keeping a firm grip on the fire iron, the pre-teen gave his whacking abilities a test, striking the closest object (a chair cushion) numerous times. It did the plan good with the ostensive harshness of the whacks, but it also served to drive the puppies back into hiding. Aware of the pups' reaction, Nicholas lowered the iron and said a hushed voice: "It's okay, I'm not going to hurt you. I need you all to come out and get in a line of some sort. Trust me, you're all going to jump out the window and follow your parents to the truck."

At first, only five puppies were brave enough to poke their heads out. Upon being told they were going to get out of the mansion, virtually all the puppies emerged from hiding and assembled together by the footrest. A lot of them eyed the fire iron in fear and kept themselves at a distance from the pre-teen, but Nicholas made sure to have a kind smile on to reassure them he was being honest.

When the boy looked back at the window, Pongo had returned to his mate's side. "We were almost caught by Cruella's men but we found the truck," he reported. "The cricket is standing by. Does it sound like they'll be coming back any time soon?"

"No, I think they're still looking for whatever Cruella left behind," Nicholas replied.

Almost as if that was the cue, another thunderous crumble of the mansion made everyone jump. The loud voices of an ireful Cruella and a panicky Jasper and Horace rang out directly after the racket subsided. The puppies began to whimper and some huddled together.

"Quickly," said an uneasy Perdita; "tell the puppies to climb up the steps, before Cruella and those thieves come barging in!"

"Got'cha," Nicholas replied. Then he turned to the puppies. "Okay, when I whack something with the poker, I want two or three of you to go up to the window. Your mother will help you down and your father will guide you to the truck. Remember to keep calm and organized; that way things will go a lot faster. Got it?"

The puppies nodded.

"Alright, here we go."

Nicholas raised the fire iron and brought it down on the chair cushion again. Three puppies hurried up the footrest and chair. Perdita rested her forehead on the side of the wall, allowing the pups to slide down her back. Then the pre-teen struck the iron onto the hard floor and three more puppies ran to the window. Then the iron smashed into an object covered with a sheet; one of the fleeing puppies lost his courage but another urged him to go, and the supporter promptly went with the scared pup.

The pattern went on with the couch, the chairs, the pillows and cushions, the floor, and even the piano receiving a ruthless beating from Nicholas, and the puppies scurrying out the window as fast and calm as possible. By the third instance of the mansion readying itself to collapse, about twenty puppies awaited their turn to escape. The pre-teen's arm ached from the dozens of swings with the iron, yet he displayed no sign of exhaustion- an inspiring act for a twelve-year old with twenty-six villain-tainted Disney stories ahead of him.

There were nine puppies left to go when a familiar voice called out: "Hey, lad, you bashed any of them beasts yet?!"

It was Jasper. The previous shudder of the mansion was more than the upper floor moments away from crashing down. It was warning Nicholas that the duo were done helping Cruella and were on their way back to carry on with the job.

The pre-teen swallowed his urge to panic and replied, "I'm almost done!"

"Oh good," came the voice of Horace. "For a second there, I thought you had up and left!"

"That's not the case," said Nicholas, hiding the fire iron behind his back. As he heard Jasper and Horace removing the chair used to block the door, he added, "I gotta warn you, it's quite a grisly scene in here!"

Nicholas gestured to the nine puppies to run to the window and stood in position beside the door. It opened and Jasper and Horace peeked in. Their eyes widened in surprise and they charged to the window. Both men failed to consider what the pre-teen could do rather than rush out the door, thus giving him the opportunity to bash the fire iron over their heads, sending the duo falling flat on their faces.

Dropping the iron, Nicholas sprinted to the window and climbed out, saying in a sarcastic British accent: "Thanks for the invite, chaps! I'd love to stick around but I have bigger plans! Cheerio!"

Jasper and Horace were still conscious and they tried to chase Nicholas but the younger male was too swift to catch, even when he was now running through several inches of snow. Not even the frigid wind hindered the pre-teen- he was that determined to beat the villains.

Making his way to the truck, watching Pongo and Perdita assist the remaining puppies into the back, Nicholas heard Cruella hollering at her henchmen. Even with the wind blowing fiercely against him, he heard her scream: "YOU IMBECILES! YOU LET HIM ESCAPE WITH THE PUPPIES! GET THE HELL UP, YOU IDIOTS! AFTER THEM! **AFTER THEM!** "

Nicholas reached the truck and, after the adult dalmatians confirmed all the puppies were safe inside, swung the back doors shut. He scrambled to the cab and found Jiminy standing on the steering wheel. "Quick!" cried the cricket. "Start the truck and get us out of here!"

Jiminy hopped onto the pre-teen's shoulder as he switched on the ignition and placed the vehicle in drive. The rusty, battered truck sped away from the mansion, its spluttering caused some of the loose parts to bounce as it sped down the snow-covered road- the most noticeable part being the headlights. Fortuitously, visibility was moderately clear, even with the falling snow, so Nicholas was able to concentrate without another problem emerging before him.

Unfortunately, he seemed to have neglected the likelihood of another problem emerging behind him.

A recognizable horn blared and the roar of a car engine rose in volume. The pre-teen's ears could tell it was a vehicle was approaching from behind, and there was no doubt at all that Cruella was pursuing him. Adjusting the truck's cracked mirror, Nicholas could see the villainess' red-and-black automobile racing after him. He could only guess that Jasper and Horace had been crammed inside, but he knew all too well that Cruella would stop at nothing until she had the fur she desired.

Jiminy saw the villains' car too and gasped; "Uh oh; Cruella and her men are gaining on us! We have to shake them off our tail!"

"But how?!" Nicholas asked. "I'm already busy keeping my eyes on the road and the snow isn't doing me any favors! If we serpentine, we could slide off the road!"

"Don't think bad thoughts, Nicholas!" Jiminy replied. "If we keep driving down the road, perhaps we'll come across a fork in the road, or maybe a cop!"

"Perhaps," Nicholas mumbled as the horn of Cruella's car rang out.

The snow continued to fall and coat the road in white. Nicholas began to struggle with the steering wheel as the truck started to swerve from left to right. Jiminy lost his balance and plummeted onto the seat- if not for his umbrella, the poor cricket would have tumbled out of the skidding truck. Both could hear the frantic barks, cries, and whimpers of the dalmatians in the back; they couldn't resist the urge to pity them all, locked in such a small space as the chase intensified. While he grappled with the wheel, the boy prayed for Cruella to lose control and send her and her fellow dimwits crashing into a bank of snow, but judging from the noise of the other vehicle, it was evident that the vile woman was being equally cautiously while remaining unconceivably insane.

A tight curve loomed a mile or so away, presenting Nicholas with the challenge of avoiding the lofty heaps of snow. He lifted his foot off the gas pedal ever so slowly, deliberately decreasing the speed little by little, when a cloaked figure suddenly popped up from the furthest snow bank. The pre-teen's eyes shot open and he nearly let go of the steering wheeling, almost sending the truck spinning out of control. Despite the shock, he managed to guide the vehicle through the tight curve and immediately after floored it.

"What's wrong, Nicholas?" Jiminy inquired, hopping onto the boy's shoulder yet again.

"I thought I saw somebody in the snow," Nicholas responded.

"A person in this kind of weather?" Jiminy asked. "Did he or she look sick?"

"Sick is not what she looked like!" Nicholas exclaimed. "I'm not going into detail and I'm not gonna stop! That might've been Zovuta trying to stop us!"

Jiminy was about to say something regarding the woman in the snow when Nicholas spotted her again. This time she was at least two miles away, standing motionless in the middle of the road. The vibrating headlights revealed the face of the figure to the duo whose heartrates straightaway quickened. Her skin was a pale silver, her lips were a deep turquoise, both the iris and sclera of her eyes were different shades of gray, and her hair shared the unholy black hue of her pupils. Nicholas remembered the Blue Fairy dub Zovuta as an "entity" and a "nefarious force". By the appearance of the woman in the road, he grasped the titles as fact.

If she can give villains the endings they desire; Nicholas surmised; then she has no trouble disguising herself to spy on me and destroy me!

"NICHOLAS, WATCH OUT!" Jiminy screamed.

The shrillness of the cricket's voice next to his ear startled the pre-teen, who responded by jerking the steering wheel to the left. Nicholas quickly yanked the wheel to the right to avoid a crash. The woman had vanished, much to Jiminy's surprise. "I guess you're right about Zovuta," he said. "She's trying to stop us!"

Not more than a second after Jiminy spoke, the duo were almost knocked off their seats by something smashing into the side of the truck. Clenching his teeth and hissing a curse, Nicholas squeezed the wheel and floored it while the cricket held on for dear life- his umbrella proved itself once more as a lifesaver.

Cruella swerved away from the truck before sharply swinging the front of her car back into the side. Her rage was boiling over. She didn't care if she caused the death of another person. All that mattered to her were the strips of dalmatian fur she would receive after the dogs were killed and skinned. There were no cliffs or trees ahead; no police vehicles either; nothing to interfere with her.

From their tight seats, Jasper and Horace watched as their truck was bashed and dented by the callous woman who hired them. "Don't wreck our truck, Ms. De Vil!" Jasper pleaded. "We hardly have a set of shillings for a spare tire!"

"BLAST YOUR TRUCK!" Cruella barked. "IT'S MY COAT I'M WORRIED ABOUT!"

Nicholas and Jiminy felt the force of Cruella's car a third time, nearly sending them and the dalmatians sliding down the slope inches away from the road's edge. With the landscape rising and the road twisting and turning, there seemed to be no end to the perilous chase. The duo feared that if they didn't get Cruella and her men off their backs, Zovuta could appear again and cause them to crash, probably trap them in a spell of some kind while allowing the villains to flourish.

Scanning the fast-moving land around him, Nicholas glanced ahead and immediately noticed that the upcoming curve rounded a large lake; based on the stillness of the water, he deduced that it was frozen. The pre-teen smiled. An idea had formed and he was moments away from putting it into action.

Nicholas carefully steered the truck down the road while maintaining a gradually decreasing speed. He hoped this would fool Cruella into thinking he was going to surrender; if so, the plan would work.

"Why are you slowing down?!" Jiminy asked worriedly. "At this rate, Cruella might push us off the road!"

"Or maybe she might drive herself off the road," Nicholas replied with a smirk.

Though he was occupied in completing his strategy, Nicholas could imagine how Jiminy reacted to his response. First he was confused, then his eyes went wide as he comprehended what was about to transpire; and at the exact moment the cricket feared what could go wrong, they could hear the roar of Cruella's car as it accelerated.

With two final glances to the frozen lake and the cracked mirror, the reflection grow bigger and bigger, the pre-teen uttered the order to hang on. Jiminy complied and Nicholas slammed his foot on the gas pedal and performed the maneuver which took the truck off the road. The ice-coated lake drew closer and closer until Nicholas swerved to the right and continued to speed along the banks. From behind came the screech of tires and the satisfying noise of Cruella's car smashing into the ice- apparently the ice wasn't entirely solid.

The plan had worked. Nicholas and Jiminy smiled in victory, but their sentiment was short-lived when an unexpected bump caused the truck to veer towards the lake. The pre-teen hardly had any time to prevent the crash. The vehicle plowed through the ice and with another violent jolt, it stopped before the cab could begin flooding. Avoiding the glacial water was a miracle; protecting the dalmatians while fighting off Cruella and her men, and possibly Zovuta if her presence still lingered, was going to be a challenge.

Springing out of the cab with Jiminy on his shoulder, Nicholas trudged through the snow to the back. By the time he reached the doors, Cruella had escaped her half-submerged car while Jasper was trying to push a stuck Horace out the side. The malicious woman saw Nicholas and furiously marched towards him. "That's the last straw, hoodlum!" she snarled. "Wait until I get my hands on you! You'll be dead, just like those insignificant dogs!"

The pre-teen and the cricket ignored the villainess and struggled with the door handles. No matter how much strength they used, the doors wouldn't open, and the cries of Pongo, Perdita, and all the puppies inside the truck did nothing but caused Nicholas' stress levels to soar. Was Zovuta impeding their mission again? Was it simply the stubborn lock? There was no time to think why the door wouldn't budge; Cruella and her men were closing in on the duo.

As the wind reduced itself to a breeze, a new sound rose at a rather quick pace. It seemed to pulse as it grew, at one moment it would be at a certain pitch then a different pitch the next. Everyone stopped dead in their tracks and turned their heads in the direction of the noise. A single red, flickering light became noticeable.

Horace was the first to panic. "Oh no!" he gasped. "It's the police!"

"We need to get out of here!" Jasper cried.

Nicholas would have been the first to flee if Cruella hadn't grabbed his shirt. "Oh no you don't!" she snapped. "If I'm going to jail, I'm taking all three of you with me!"

Unfortunately for her, Nicholas managed to break free and sprinted towards the trees and bushes. He dove behind the largest bush in the nick of time. The police siren blared past him and died out as the vehicle skidded to a stop. The opening and closing of car doors followed, along with the voices of the men driving it.

Nicholas and Jiminy quietly listened to Cruella and her henchmen interacting with the two officers. Questions regarding the chase and the vehicles in the lake were greeted with answers and assurances that nothing was wrong. It was clear that Pongo and Perdita heard the officer's voices as barking became audible. This grabbed the men's attention who asked what the noise was. Despite their attempts to convince the officers it was merely the dying engine, the trio was held back as the doors of the truck were pulled open.

"Well, Ms. De Vil," one of the officers said; "it looks like Mr. Radcliffe was right about you. I don't remember him mentioning cruelty, but the stolen puppies are enough for your arrest! You and your fellow blokes are coming with us!"

As Cruella, Jasper, and Horace protested, Jiminy turned to the pre-teen and said, "Well, what do you know! The police just happened to witness the chase and caught Cruella red-handed. We did it; we saved one of the stories!"

"Yeah," Nicholas replied with a slight chuckle. "Several punches were thrown at us, but we still stand tall and, well, saved one of twenty-seven stories. Whatever story we have next, even if Zovuta comes and messes with us, I'll be sure that we'll beat the villains at their own game, even if it takes ages!"

"That's the spirit, Nicholas," said Jiminy. "A positive mind brings out a strong-willed hero."

Suddenly, three streaks of light appeared above the duo. Instantly noting the familiar colors of blue, purple, and white, Jiminy hurried up the pre-teen's arm and waited. Nicholas wasn't as composed as the cricket was. Despite remembering the colors that created the portal, he didn't know what the streaks of light were about to do. They swarmed around him, picking up speed every second, and then, without warning, all three lights dove at the boy from different angles. He braced for whatever effect the lights would have on him, and he and Jiminy were overcome with brightness.

The intense colors vanished without inflicting any pain on either character. Relieved as Nicholas was, he was now bemused. Earlier, he and Jiminy were in the midst of a moderate snowstorm, complete with taunting wind, frigid air, and of course snow and ice. Now, the pre-teen found himself gazing up at a beautiful star-filled sky, his resting hands caressing the new texture of the ground. A strong breeze brought particles of the ground upon his face, helping him recognize what the snow had been turned into: sand.


End file.
